


Unseen

by lornesgoldenhair



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Insecurity, Invisibility, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:18:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3950326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornesgoldenhair/pseuds/lornesgoldenhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship is progressing but its painfully slow. Clara can't understand why the Doctor is so shy or why he won't relinquish his invisibility watch. She discovers that while invisible hanky panky can be fun, it has its drawbacks and she longs for more. Whouffaldi. M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unseen

Twenty-nine. One length for each year of her life. Clara’s right hand touched the wall of the TARDIS swimming pool and she popped her head up from the water, ceasing her until now relentless front crawl. She was finally beginning to tire. She let herself bob in the water a little before slowly breast stroking her way to the shallow end and the little section of pool closed off from the rest that served as a hot tub. These evening sessions were becoming a regular occurrence, and while she was pleased to feel her muscles tone and fitness increase there were other forms of exercise she would much rather be doing.

Stop that, he’s not ready.

The petulant voice in her head fell silent as she slipped into the tub in her TARDIS blue bikini.

He’s not ready, and there’s plenty of time, and I’m not going to force him, she lectured herself, and that’s an end to it. She fiddled with the controls to the Jacuzzi settings and settled back against the wall watching the bubbles gently fizz around her. She tapped her fingers along the edge of the tub and tried to relax, listening to the water, watching the lights dim around her as the ship detected her tension. The Olympic standard pool atmosphere, bright, chlorinated and echo-y, was transforming around her to something that approximated a spa, dimmer, warmer, softer. She let her thoughts drift.

She almost thought she’d cracked it tonight, which on reflection was why she was arguing with herself more than usual. So near and yet so far. She’d been patient, very, very patient, the petulant voice told her, coaxing an inexplicably terrified Doctor out from his shell over days and weeks. Wasn’t this what he had wanted? She had asked one evening. When he had returned for her and slayed the dreamcrab dissolving her brain? Hadn’t they more or less silently agreed to elope in the TARDIS?

He’d swallowed and his eyes and flitted nervously over her face, her face that was now so close to his she could feel his breath, shaky on her skin. She closed a hand around his and tugged so that the final inches vanished and her lips met his. Not a kiss on his cheek like before, not a platonic gesture that could be misconstrued, a full lingering kiss with the barest trace of her tongue on his lower lip before she pulled away. Let me spell it out for you, she had said, I love you. And she kissed him again, longer this time, giving him a chance to respond.

But he didn’t. At least he did but not quite in the way she had anticipated. He just sort of flapped. Withdrew his hand from hers and looked away. Blushed. Chewed at his lips. Made a dozen different attempts at displacement activity before stumbling over his words and finally covering his face with his hands in utter frustration at his own ineptitude. Clara had stood and watched, a little wide –eyed, before she felt the need to step in and calm him down, one hand on his arm, soothing, reassuring, listening to him babble about being a thousand years out of practice, about a new and unpredictable body he wasn’t entirely comfortable with about how really she deserved so much better.

She made him a cup of tea.

She attempted to be understanding. She was understanding, at least for the first few months and really part of her hated herself for getting frustrated because he really had been on his own for a millennium and she knew deep down he really did want her and that his fears were in perspective quite comprehensible. If she’d been alone all that time she’d probably be nervous too…

I’d get over it though.

Shut up.

Well I would, this is getting ridiculous.

But tonight…

Yes, tonight had really truly been an almost. Kissing was on the agenda. She’d managed that one a few weeks back and it wasn’t unusual now to find herself wrapped up in his arms either, curled on a couch by a fireplace, his hand on her waist or more recently still being encouraged up or down to a breast or a thigh. Tonight his fingers had wound their way under the hem of her skirt and pushed round to the curve of her buttock. She’d pulled on his jumper and they had more or less laid down, the Doctor leaning over her, her leg wrapping over his, holding him close, close enough to feel how hard he had become through his trousers.

Her breath becoming fast and ragged Clara’s hands had worked on the zipper of his hoodie, peeling it off him as he pressed more of his weight into her, his kisses becoming sloppier, more needy, leaving her lips and trailing down her neck, into the crook of her shoulder. He was finally losing himself in the moment and she had felt a thrill run through her, a burning between her legs that until now she’d tried hard to control so that they truly could stop at any time and she wouldn’t be faced with that apologetic look he wore when he panicked and his nerves got the better of him. His jumper was off and his hands had slid under her top and she couldn’t control the little moan that escaped her when he rubbed across a nipple bucked slightly between her legs. She mumbled encouragement, grasped at the buckle of his belt, flicked it open and undid the top button. She had thought if anything it would be then that he baulked but instead he allowed her to palm his erection through his open trousers and the fabric of his underwear and she permitted herself at last to think that this was it, it was finally happening, so she reached to remove his T-shirt.

That apparently was a mistake.

He drew back sharply, his pupils blown and his cheeks a little flushed and then she saw the awkwardness flood over him again and her heart sank. She caught it and decided that all they needed was some further reassurance and they’d quickly be back on track. After all the signs were there, he was hot and aroused and surely they’d gone past the point of no return. But no. All of a sudden he was back pedalling, fastening clothing, putting layers back on. She tried to glean what the matter was, had it not felt good? And he couldn’t deny that it had, it was just… it was just…

And it dawned on her watching him look in the other direction and reapply his ridiculous layers upon layers of clothing, tugging down his sleeves to hide his forearms and zipping up the hoodie tightly in the warmth of the library. It dawned on her that…

You’re shy.

He cast her a sharp glance.

You don’t want me to see you.

The answering blush told her everything she needed to know. He had shifted uncomfortably, looked at the fire. She caught the muscles in his jaw working.

She was beautiful, he had said, beautiful and young, and noticeably toned since her evening swimming habit had taken off, and he was blown away by her in a way that was unusual for him, as a being from a species that didn’t quantify worth by external concepts of beauty. But she was beautiful and he couldn’t deny it and he… well he….

He wasn’t.

She had stared at him.

You are to me, she said.

And he squirmed.

I want to make love to you, she said.

That didn’t do it either.

So she tried for something profound, something profound and reassuring. She tried to tell him that she had seen all of it, all of him, before. That she’d seen all of his faces, heard all of his voices, loved every one of his incarnations in one way or another and that this, this was a culmination of all of that and that he could never look more beautiful in her eyes.

She’d seen something change in his face then, and he’d opened his mouth a fraction to respond and for a second she thought they’d bridged the problem, moved past his insecurities at last as he almost... almost came back to her.

Not quite.

He apologised instead. And she said it was OK. And then she went swimming.

Clara sighed and allowed herself a moment to feel sorry for herself. And for him. He would get there, she was certain of it, she just wished…

A splash from the far end of the pool caught her attention and she squinted into the gloom to try and see its source. She could hear water moving, a rhythmic sound generated by regular strokes.

‘Doctor?’ she called. Maybe he had decided to join her. She peered into the darkness. Maybe he felt more comfortable half undressed in a swimming pool than he did in a sexual context. She pondered as she tried to catch a glimpse of him; maybe that was the way forward, to normalise it from that perspective? She could work with that, the pool was dark, the water could cover as much or as little of him as he wanted, maybe it would grow his confidence.

The sounds of swimming were coming closer but she still couldn’t see him. He couldn’t be far away, the splashing was just on the other side of the hot tub area.

‘Doctor this is a bit creepy now, where are you?’

A sudden rush of water, like an inverted waterfall rising from the main body of the pool just a few feet in front of her and then just as rapidly followed by the same water cascading back down. Clara jumped and half stood in the hot tub and then her eyes noticed something very strange, something which could have been mistaken for an optical illusion, except she was pretty sure it wasn’t. As the water fell back down it seemed to hit something solid but invisible, fall in rivulets over a familiar form. One that was tall and slim and Time Lord shaped.

‘Doctor?’ Clara laughed, ‘Is that you? Have you gone all… see through?’

She heard a low chuckle and then squeaked as the dripping figure sank into the hot tub opposite her. Clara squinted. It was him, she could glean the faintest outline of his features from the few remaining drops of water on his face, but in the warmth of the tub they were evaporating quickly. She looked into the water, saw it wrapped around the invisible body creating the strangest image, a hollow in the middle of the tub which she knew wasn’t actually hollow at all but contained the Doctor’s torso.

‘That’s so weird… Actually no that’s really disconcerting!’ Clara giggled, ‘Not to mention this is so frustrating! I can sort of see you but….’ she stopped.

Oh. That was what he was doing.

‘But I can’t,’ she smiled. ‘OK… well…’

The water surged and she watched the hollow approach her side. ‘How are you doing this anyway?’ she asked suddenly aware that his invisibility made her feel very slightly nervous. She trusted him but at the same time it was hard not to be able to see his face, read his expression, know a little of what he was thinking. It was making her babble. ‘It’s not that watch is it? The invisible watch that you made last year because I’m not sure that’s totally waterproof, what if it explodes…eeek!’

She jumped as he tickled her side and she tried to bat away invisible hands. She heard his laugh from somewhere behind her left ear and turned automatically to face him but found herself looking at the wall. Clara frowned and then she felt lips meet the tip of her nose gently.

She giggled, ‘Your aim is off, you’re the invisible one not me, my lips are down a bit.’

He dutifully adjusted his aim and she felt his lips brush gently over her mouth. She opened her own lips a little and then drew back.

‘This has got to look really strange…’ she said, ‘Like I’m kissing the air… I’m not sure I can use tongues and take this seriously…’

‘Shut up.’

‘Who said that?’ she retorted finding the whole thing suddenly hilarious.

‘You’re over thinking, stop it,’ his voice reverberated off the pool walls, ‘You know if you stopped this could actually be a rather pleasant and unusual experience for you.’

Clara pouted thoughtfully. ‘What have you got in mind…?’

‘Hmm.’

‘Hmm what? Hmm I have a wicked plan, or Hmm you’re going to love this? Urgh I can’t tell if I can’t see you.’

‘Hmm.’

Clara watched as the hollow in the water moved around her, circling slowly in a strangely predatory manner. She felt a hand grip her wrist and tug her to sit more centrally in the hot tub, and then there was the feel of a presence behind her for a second before long fingers drew lines down her back, massaging alternately with strokes and circles, and then pulling her to rest against an invisible chest. A set of lips nibbled at an earlobe as palms drew across her belly, upwards, water running from ghostly hands.

‘Tell me what you want,’ his voice whispered lightly.

Clara reached back and unhooked her bikini top, letting it float off into the tub, and then settled back against him. The hands on her stomach moved up slightly, held her just over the bottom of her ribs. She wriggled against him encouragingly until she felt thumbs flick over her nipples and draw across the undersides of her breasts. Clara moaned softly and out of instinct and curiosity reached down under the water and behind her hips.

Her fingertips met with thigh and she felt the muscle there twitch at the contact. She ran her hand smoothly over it and then dared to push higher. She was seated between his legs, her bikini bottoms pressed against him and she bit her lip as her hand wandered higher.

He was naked. She heard his breath grow sharp as she found him, hard against her lower back. Clara turned in his arms slightly and wrapped her hand around him, gently rubbing along his length then pulling back slowly. She heard a low groan from just in front of her face and smiled, lifting her free hand to where she thought his chest was, exploring the shape of it, the tension of the muscle, the fine hair she could feel but had never seen. She bent and placed a soft kiss over his sternum, feeling the dual hammering of his hearts from either side.

His own hands had wandered. Down over her hips and now one was poised at the edge of her bikini. He hesitated with his fingertips just under the fabric and Clara guessed that he was asking permission, lifted herself slightly and pulled the garment away. She felt his lips make contact with her neck then and his fingers trace downwards making small circles on the way before parting her gently. Reflexively she squeezed him with her palm and indicated the speed and tempo she wanted by demonstrating it on him.

He had worried he was out of practice. The thought idly went through her head as his fingers stroked back and forth, a slow steady rhythm which was making her burn. Every now and then he pushed a little deeper, almost entering her and making her whimper before pulling back, slowing further, playing with her rising desires. She was beginning to grind against him, push with her hips to try and force his fingers deeper, and she could feel the muscles at her centre tense in readiness for release. She ran her hand faster over him, drew her thumb across his tip, massaged there hungrily until she could hear him panting close to her ear. She turned and pressed a kiss to his invisible skin, felt the pulses in his neck under her lips and urged him on, her words quickly dropping into pleas.

‘Doctor… please… that’s it….oh God… you’re so good…. That’s so good…’

The water around them already fizzing with the hot tubs bubbles now began to churn with their increasingly frantic movements and Clara could feel herself rising desperately, the tension about to spill over inside her and her mind struggling to give any focus to what she was doing to him. She could feel his hips moving against her at the same pace as hers, their free arms holding each other fast, their legs entwined, he was going to tip over a the same moment as her, she was willing it so, maybe then he would realise how utterly she adored him.

‘Go on…’ she whispered, ‘Let it happen, come for me, I want to feel it happen for you….’

She felt him buck at the meaning of her words and he let out a string of short gasps against the crook of her neck where she guessed even in his invisibility he was hiding his face. Clara tightened her grip on him just a fraction more, pumped him faster and then with a sharp cry she felt it as his body spasmed under her and his breath came strained and ragged with his release. She was an instant behind him, the sound of his climax pushing her over as his fingers pushed into her.

She found herself half dozing against him a few minutes later, a hand moving down her back and warm water bubbling around her. Her first instinct was to look up into his face, kiss his lips, but of course, he was still invisible and she couldn’t see them.

‘You can probably un-invisible now,’ she smiled, trying to work out where his eyes were. A movement in the water and she relinquished her hold on him thinking he was doing just that, realising too late that actually he wasn’t. ‘Doctor? Time to be technicolour.’

There was a hesitation and she could almost feel the awkwardness descend over him again.

‘I… not yet…’ he said.

Clara blinked. ‘Doctor you can possibly still feel insecure after that… I mean that… that was amazing….’

‘Doctor? Come on… let me see you…. I can’t even talk to you like this…’

‘I’m sorry, Clara.’

‘You can’t stay invisible forever,’ she laughed nervously.

‘I don’t intend to. I’ll be visible again shortly…’

‘Good!

‘Once I’m dressed.’

The water sloshed again and she saw the upward waterfall which followed his figure as he rose from the hot tub, a series of damp footprints leading away from the edge as the last of the liquid fell away from his body so that he vanished completely.

 

XXXXXXXX

He could barely look at her and he was absolutely not entertaining any idea of addressing the subject of what happened in the hot tub. The Doctor had avoided her for the best part of the following day, which was fairly easy to do in an infinite spaceship, and to be quite frank Clara was more than a little irritated by the time evening came around. As usual she went swimming. If she couldn’t argue with him she’d burn off her energy elsewhere.

Part of her felt sorry for him, but a bigger part felt hard done to and downright annoyed at his behaviour. Just what did it take from her for him to realise that she loved him and wanted to see him and have normal sex? Invisibility had its kinks but actually she’d quite like them to do it the visible way a few times before the explored those further. She couldn’t help but find it selfish of him that he wouldn’t meet her half way, that he wouldn’t believe her reassurance.

Maybe that’s what hurt. He didn’t believe her. It wasn’t enough. Maybe she wasn’t enough.

Or maybe, her argumentative inner voice told her, maybe you’re too ‘enough’, too much for him, maybe he thinks he doesn’t deserve you.

Oh shut up I’m not that arrogant.

Clara plopped into the hot tub feeling horrible. Horrible for him, horrible for herself; a mess of confused emotions and motives on both sides. They couldn’t communicate verbally at the best of times and now the whole invisibility thing had made it even more difficult. Not least because she suspected he had probably avoided her all day by being invisible.

She closed her eyes and turned the bubbles on high. It must have disguised the noise because the next thing she was aware of was a hand on her arm. Finally. Clara opened her eyes. There was no-one there. Well no-one visible.

‘For God’s sake, make yourself appear, we can’t talk when I can’t see you,’ she huffed. ‘I can’t believe you’re even doing this again… ‘

‘You didn’t enjoy it?’ he asked innocently.

Clara rolled her eyes, ‘Obviously I enjoyed it,’ she wondered if he smirked at that, ‘But the bit afterwards… that’s where the problem lies…’

‘Oh…’

Sloshing. He was circling her, in front of her. She felt his hands tug at her bikini bottoms.

‘Doctor…’ she said warningly, ‘We really need to sort this out.’

A splash and the hollow shape of him vanished for a second before her bikini rose to the surface of the water and floated free. His hands returned to rest on her thighs pulling them slowly apart.

‘Doctor…’ she tried to repress her smile and then a shiver as he ran his fingers up towards her body. ‘Don’t think that you can just vanish and start doing sexy things to me and everything will be…’

‘Where did you go?’

The sound of the hot tub bubbling. No hollow in the water to indicate his presence.

‘Oh for God’s sake!’ Clara exclaimed.

What the hell was he playing at now? Turning up, stripping her, making promises with his fingers and vanishing into thin air. She glanced round the hot tub to try to see some trace of him, footprints or drips, some sign as to where he might have gone.

Clara’s eyes widened.

 _That’s_ where he had gone.

His hands were back on her thighs, holding them apart, but it was his mouth and in particular his tongue that had drawn her attention.

‘Oh my god….’ She whispered.

How was he even doing that underwater? Wouldn’t he drown? No, wait he had the respiratory thing… what did he call it… the respiratory…

Her brain short circuited. It didn’t matter what he called it. It was the most incredible physiological gift ever invented and what he was doing with it should be illegal. She reached down under the water and her fingers came into contact with his hair, tangling in it. She glanced down at the nothing between her legs, trying to marry the intense sensation with the apparently empty pool before leaning back against the wall and trying to stop hyperventilating. She’d never felt anything like it and he was just letting it spiral, become more and more intense, she wasn’t going to last another minute if he kept that pace, it was perfect, the solid thrust of his tongue against her while the warm water lapped at every other sensitive part of her body and the bubbles from the tub danced over her skin.

She felt herself gripping tighter onto one of his shoulders, picturing him, wishing she could see his silver hair as well as feel it, wishing she could watch his muscles at work under his skin as he held her thighs. Suddenly her mind was spinning with images she wanted to see; the Doctor as he had been on the couch with her, leaning down, his blues eyes looking into hers, her hands pushing under his clothes, pulling them away from him revealing every detail, the exact shade of his skin, the veins in his arms tracing across it. Did he flush as he grew more aroused, when he came did the blush spread to his chest? Was the hair there silver or dark? And further down, imagining her hands undoing his belt, lowering his trousers, the feel of him in her hand was familiar, but the sight, she wanted to see…

Oh God if she had the strength she’d stop him now, haul him up to be level with her and force him to be visible, force him to let her look at him as she came, but she couldn’t she was too far gone and it was starting already, her hips twitching as his tongue flicked a final few times across her until she was bucking in the water, her voice ringing from the walls of the pool.

She had little time to gather herself before a rush of water indicated that he had straighten up and emerged from the water. She heard him take a deep breath.

‘That’s… some set of lungs you have…’ Clara said breathily.

‘Respiratory bypass has its advantages,’ he said.

Clara tried to locate him in the water, ‘Are you… you know going to be visible?’ she asked hoping it didn’t sound to confrontational.

He hesitated and she heard him take another breath and though considering it.

‘I’d really like you to,’ she stepped forward, reaching to where she though he was and finding her fingers met with hard flesh. She ran her hands up his torso and let them rest on his chest, followed his breathing and his heartbeats. ‘You know what you were doing down there, under the water, it was incredible… but…’

‘But?’ he sounded wary and a little worried.

‘But what pushed me over the edge was picturing you doing it,’ she admitted. It was hard speaking to him like this, when she couldn’t see his response, she felt more vulnerable that she cared for but perhaps that was what he needed on some level when his own confidence wasn’t so great. He was silent and she cautiously raised her fingers to his face to try to trace the emotion there.

His cheeks were burning. She smiled. ‘It’s true,’ she said, ‘I was picturing you doing it… and other things… I’d like to see the real thing.’

‘Your imagination probably ran away with you,’ he said, ‘You’ll be picturing all sorts…. I’m really… I’m probably disappointing in reality.’

She sighed sensing another impasse. ‘Not to me you’re not,’ she said quietly, letting her hands drop from his face. There was an awkward silence and then she heard him move out of the pool.

 

XXXXXXXXX

Talking to him about it made him prickly. Prickly and defensive and seemed to set them back every time they moved forward in any way. And Clara had spent months trying to get them this far so she trod cautiously. It was frustrating to say the least. But she slowly noticed a change in his patterns. He didn’t confine himself to the pool. He appeared a few times in her room. Unknown and unannounced causing her to shriek with shock when she climbed onto her bed and had him pounce on her. Any lingering sadness that she couldn’t see him was quickly dispelled by the silly playfulness which seemed to leak out of him when he was invisible. It was liberating and felt more and more in the muscles of his body his relaxation and ease when he was that way.

And it was hard to keep concentration. It was hard to query why he wouldn’t show himself to her when he was assaulting her body with his invisible lips and hands. His confidence when she couldn’t see him was enormous, she was putty in his hands and every now and then, during the times where he was visible to her she’d catch a glimpse of it and felt hopeful that maybe soon when he came to her at night, she’d see him before she felt his touch.

But time kept passing and nothing was changing. They’d kiss and caress and then he’d stop, embarrassed and still very much fully dressed. There was a barrier he just couldn’t bring himself to break. Something would have to happen to force the issue and that in itself worried her. If the issue was forced would he just retreat entirely? Did she have the right to force the issue at all when it clearly caused him so much worry? But surely it would be better that way? Neither of them were completely happy, not if they were honest, something was missing, intimacy only went to a certain level and then it stopped, and Clara longed to complete it.

That’s when she found the watch. The invisibility watch she had long suspected he was using. She had felt its strap on his wrist a few times when she had been with him but had never been brave enough to try and release the catch as he wore it. Now there it was, lying on the workbench below the console room, a number of little tools next to it. Was he repairing it? Upgrading it? She couldn’t tell.

Gingerly she touched its dial. If she hid it, or destroyed it what would happen? Would he simply stop coming to her until he invented a new one? Would he know it was her and be angry? Well it would hardly be anyone else. She chewed her lip and eyed a small screwdriver. Maybe she could… no she wouldn’t know where to begin with altering its settings, she’d probably blow herself up or make herself invisible forever. She wouldn’t mind trying it, what he had been doing, pounce on him late at night and pleasure him, but she sensed that it just wouldn’t work. Because she would still be able to see him and he’d still be shy and stop her. If they ever got over this she could try it but…. Not now.

She puffed a stray strand of hair out of her face and looked about her. What really needed to happen, she thought, was for it to break, mid session, without any obvious interference from her, when he was just too far gone to care about being seen. Apart from the power of prayer she wasn’t sure how to arrange that. She kept hoping the damn thing would go wrong after so much time underwater but he appeared to have thought of that. Clara picked up the watch and turned it over slowly in her hands.

‘How do I make you malfunction?’ she muttered.

The lights blinked and she looked up. To her left a drawer shot out of the wall of the TARDIS.

‘Seriously?’ she asked. ‘You’re… helping?’

Another flicker in the lights, more urgent now. Above her Clara could hear footsteps, the Doctor returning to the console room.

Hurriedly she dropped the watch in the drawer and watched it ping back. There was a click, a short rattle and then it spat outwards again. She grabbed the watch and the drawer vanished.

‘Clara?’

Flustered she replaced the watch on the workbench. ‘Coming.’

‘What are you doing down there?’

‘Looking for something…’

‘What? Didn’t think you had much use for transducer coils and sonic hammers…’

‘Sonic hammers? Are they like screwdrivers?’ she scuttled up the steps and nearly ran into him.

‘Sort of…’ the Doctor eyed her suspiciously, ‘Find what you needed?’

‘Yes, thanks…’ she dodged his question, ‘So where’s on the menu today?’

XXXXXXXX

The planet had been ridiculously hot, and sandy and Clara had made for the shower the moment they got back only to discover that the Doctor had headed there too. Invisibly. She felt his hands on her back as she washed her hair and let him take over the process, massaging shampoo into her and then moving to soap her body. By the time he was finished her legs were like jelly.

It was slightly odd watching herself be carried in his arms, dripping wet, through her room. She caught her reflection in her mirror, suspended a few feet above the carpet by an unseen force. But she was getting used to these things and her mind was elsewhere as he laid her down on the covers and began kissing his way down her belly. She felt his hand slid over her hip and briefly caught his wrist, the strap of the watch prominent under her fingers.

And then she forgot all about it. He was so busy kissing her and touching her, the unpredictable nature of invisible fingers causing her to gasp with surprise as he touched her in places he had hitherto neglected, switching rapidly from her breasts to her sex to that spot on her inner thigh that made her squirm. She could occasionally pre-empt his moves buy the soft brush of his hair against her skin but at other times his mouth appeared from nowhere, his lips firm or pliable on her neck, her wrist, the hollow of her neck.

She had to admit at times like this, the invisibility worked for her as she reached out to try and grasp him and felt a waft of air as he dodged away, frustrating her. She giggled and redoubled her efforts, grabbing one arm and feeling him flip under her so that she was straddling his body. Clara could feel him hard under her and ground herself against him, hearing a gasp from above. So far, while they had played with and pleasured each other, something had held her back from fully making love. Deep down she knew it was because she wanted to look into his eyes when she did. Now pinning him lightly to the sheets she wished not for the first time she could see his face as she heard his breathing pick up. Instead she placed her hands on his chest and felt it heave, before slipping back a little and bending to kiss his stomach.

He wriggled a little under her and she imagined him squeezing his eyes shut. She closed her own to picture his body, let her mouth explore his abdomen and the trail of hair which led to his sex. She nuzzled against him, inhaling his scent, hearing him moan and let her tongue find the tip of him before slowly dragging it to the base.

‘Clara….’ Her name was drawn out on his lips and she smiled. Under her hands his body felt at once tensed and relaxed and she could feel him moving slightly in rhythm as she sucked gently on him at first before deepening her taste. She pulled back, letting go, aiming to torment him and as she wrapped one hand around him he let out a deep groan. For a second her eyes flickered open and she looked up over his body to where his head lay on the pillow, eyes shut.

She could see him. The watch had broken.

For a second she wasn’t sure what to do, if she hesitated too long he’d notice and probably panic, retreat and vanish. He seemed oblivious at that moment though, his face relaxed but for a frown of arousal between his brows and a slight tension in his neck as he pressed back amongst the pillows. One hand lay by his face and as she watched he turned his head slightly to it and let out a short whimper. She could see his Adam’s apple bob with the effort of swallowing against his growing desire.

Clara made up her mind and bent to engulf him again, keeping her movements long and slow so that with each stroke she could pull away far enough to catch a glimpse of him above her, the sweat breaking out on his brow now as she moved, and a flush creeping over his face. As she watched he tangled one hand in his hair and swept his fingers through it, an action she had seen many times but never in this context. She felt herself grow wetter at the sight as it spoke of the tension that was coiling now inside him as she laved him with her tongue and let her fist pump his length smoothly. He was breathing fast now and she pulled right back, letting go with her mouth, to speed up her hands and watch him as he began to come undone. Even now, believing himself to be invisible, he covered his face with one arm, his eyes firmly shut.

‘Gods… Clara… that’s it….’

She felt him leaking onto her fingers and laid a hand on his thigh, the muscles there taut.

‘Are you close?’ she asked quietly.

‘Yes… Oh Gods… don’t stop…. So close….’

If she was going to do this it would have to be now. Another few moments and he’d be there and then, when it was over he would realise she had seen. It might be ok or it might spook him. But if she did what she planned to…. She allowed another few pumps of her fist and then pushed herself up his body.

‘Ah!’ he panted as she let go of him, his body straining with need, ‘Clara…. What… I…’

And then she covered his mouth with hers and made to roll him so that he was on top of her. His hearts were pounding against her chest as gravity pushed him down between her parted legs, his length heavy and hard, twitching against her as he fought off his climax. He was right on the edge and Clara reached down with one hand to grasp him causing him to buck into her grip.

‘Doctor… Please…’ she positioned him and felt him try to hold off before she kissed him deeply again, holding tight against her so that the tip of him pushed into her body and he moaned low and hard into her mouth.

‘Clara…’

The sensation of him overwhelming as he moved inside of her, but it was his face she watched as the breath left his lips in ragged puffs and his eyes remained closed in concentration. She watched the lines on his forehead crease and the dampness of his skin run into beads of sweat. His cheeks hollowed with each forceful breath and the skin there tinged pink with effort and arousal. She was smiling as she watched the flush spread down over his neck to the top of his chest and let her fingers trace the hair there proudly. Silver. She leaned forward to kiss the little patch at his sternum that until now she had only felt and the let her head fall back onto the pillow to look up again at his face.

The change in stimulation had halted his rapid escalation to climax but now he was quickly mounting that path again and she could feel in his muscles that he was close as he gripped her hips with one hand while he supported his weigh on the other arm. His neck flexed and leaned back as he approached it, teeth clenched before a gasp left his mouth and his lips formed a loose ‘O.’ Clara raised her hands to his cheeks and held his face, her fingers in his hair, pulling him down towards her so that their eyes were level. He was smiling now, the first waves of pleasure coming, his movements suddenly more erratic and then his eyes were open, brilliant blue, piercing and locking with her gaze so that she could see her reflection in them. She wondered if he could see there what she saw when she looked at him.

He was beautiful, at ease in his own skin, the expression in his eyes one of unqualified love, she could see all of him at last.

Time seemed to freeze briefly as he realised and then the full force of his release crashed over him and he was calling her name, his eyes closing again and his arms tightening around her.

Minutes passed, their breathing steady again and his face hidden in her neck. She was toying with his hair, pressing occasional kisses to the skin she could reach, willing him to be alright. After an age he pushed himself up and shyly looked down at her.

‘What did you do to the watch?’ he asked quietly.

‘Nothing…’

An eyebrow raised.

‘Really nothing…. I did nothing… must have been all that time we spent in the pool, short circuited it or something.’

He didn’t look convinced and for a second Clara’s heart sank. ‘We don’t…. we don’t still need it do we?’ she asked. He looked down into the pillows behind them and then shifted his weight a little so that he could lean over her more comfortably, his head supported with one hand. She watched the emotions pass over his face, behind his eyes, thoughtful, conflicted as though testing himself and his theories and then just as quickly he seemed to let go of something, smile, his gaze calm.

‘No…’ he said at last. He held out his wrist, ‘Do the honours?’

Clara didn’t have to be asked twice, unclasping the strap and dropping the watch over the side of the bed. She let her fingers tangle in his and snuggled closer to his chest. She could feel his lips press against the top of her head every now and then.

‘Clara?’ he asked after a beat.

‘Mmm?’

‘What did you see?’

She leaned back and looked up at him, winked slyly. ‘Wonders…’ she said.

 

 

 


End file.
